


Sight

by JulianGreystoke



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Healing, Injury, Romance, Wounded, omega - Freeform, sight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 10:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2578307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulianGreystoke/pseuds/JulianGreystoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrus is recovering from being shot on Omega.  He's also keeping a secret from the woman he's falling in love with.  Something he doesn't dare tell her.  Did he lose more than his good looks when that rocket hit him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sight

Sight

Trying to breath around his own blood. His pulse pounding, thump thump thump, rapid fire in his ears, like he might explode. Pain like nothing he had ever felt. Heat and...her. She shouted his name and knelt beside him. He could only see her through a haze. He blinked tears and blood from his eyes, the side of his face exploded with pain, even with this simple motion. “Take it easy, Garrus, we're going to get you out of here,” she said, rolling him gently into her arms. He felt his fingers close around his gun, as though it were the only real thing there. Everything else was floating in a fog of his own blood and agony.

The salarian was kneeling beside him too, waving his omni-tool and and speaking very fast and low to Shepard. His face was difficult to focus on because he kept moving in quick jerks. Shepard's other companion, the human male, was on his comm, contacting...was that Joker's voice? Hearing that familiar sound bolstered Garrus slightly. As though it gave him permission to believe that the Normandy was here, that she was here.

He wasn't sure how long he lay there, drifting in and out. The salarian gave him a few doses of medi-gel, which made the pain lessen marginally. Enough that he could listen to what his long lost friend was saying. Shepard spoke with the salarian, apparently named Mordin, and then to Garrus. She kept up a soothing tone he had only heard her use once, and that was when Joker had broken his wrist while attempting another daring maneuver while piloting his beloved Normandy. Shepard had practically carried the brittle-boned pilot to the med-bay, all the while keeping up a steady stream of calming conversation. Garrus enjoyed her voice, “Take it easy, we've got you. The Normandy is coming. It's going to be alright. I've got you, Garrus.”

He must have passed out because when next he was aware of his surroundings it was in the familiar med-bay of the Normandy. He blinked a few times, trying to turn his head to get a better look around. Pain exploded across his face and he had to lay still and focus on breathing for several moments.

“Patient awake. Seems to need more medication. One moment,” came a quick voice that Garrus vaguely recognized.

“Hello, Garrus.” said another voice which he definitely knew.

“Chakwas?” the injured turian asked weakly.

The human doctor moved into his view and smiled warmly. “Good to see you awake.”

“How long?” he choked. His throat felt cracked and dry.

“Day and a half,” said the other voice. The salarian, Mordin, moved to stand beside Chakwas. “Face took quite a blow. Did our best to repair the damage. Will have some scars though.”

“Shep-Shepard?” had he imagined her? Somehow seeing her again felt like a dream. But then, how could he be here, on the Normandy, if she was not there? The Normandy without Shepard was like a sniper rifle with no sight. Incomplete.

“She's been to visit you several times,” Chakwas assured him. “Should we call her now?”

“No,” Garrus managed to raise a hand in protest as Mordin moved towards the comm. “I want...I want to see her when I'm stronger. Not like this.”

“Understand,” Mordin nodded curtly.

“Alright,” said Chakwas, “but she'll want to see you soon. She was quite worried about you.”

Shepard? Worried about him? The idea bolstered him. He thought of her as a mentor, a leader, and a dear friend for a long time. Knowing she was alive had made him feel like the foolish kid at the Citadel she had met over two years before. Wincing he tried moving parts of his body in turn. He took it slow, one motion at a time, until he was sitting up. This action confirmed what he had been fearing as he lay. Something was wrong with his vision. “What...what happened to my eyes?” he asked nervously, trying to adjust, but feeling dizzy.

“Ah,” Mordin made a small sound that didn't seem encouraging. “Thought this might be the case.”

“What? Why can't...why can't I see on my right side?” he was breathing quickly as panic rose in him.

“I'm sorry, Garrus,” said Chakwas unhappily. “Mordin was concerned that you might lose some vision in that eye due to the injury. It seems the damage was worse than we thought.”

Garrus tried to calm himself, blinking rapidly as he tried to restore his feeling of equilibrium. A sniper with no depth perception? Certainly he closed one eye to hone in on a target, but before that, before that he needed to see properly. What use would Shepard have for a broken soldier? He reached towards his face, but his arm was stayed. The salarian had a hand on his wrist. The strange, scarred face met Garrus' good eye. At first he didn't understand, but then he glanced down and saw what Mordin was holding in his other hand. Blue and gleaming. It was his combat visor. Undamaged by the blow that had destroyed half of it's wearer's face. He was still confused, he looked back up into Mordin's large, dark eyes.

“Visor is a nice piece of tech. Could be modified to correct some deficiencies in your vision.”

“You mean, wear it over my bad eye?” Garrus asked, still unsure.

“No. That eye is past saving. Wear it over the good eye. Properly calibrated this device could allow you marginal depth perception and increase visual acuity. Possibly to be greater than you possessed before.” the salairan paused to consider this, hand under chin. For a long moment he seemed to have drifted away from the conversation entirely.

“I can do it,” Garrus said firmly, taking his visor. “I can modify it.”

“I'll help,” Mordin offered. “Slim fingers,” he held up a narrow hand to demonstrate.

Garrus knew that Mordin was actually offering to help because Garrus would have trouble seeing the small details for the calibration, being unused to only having one eye. He nodded, “right. Thanks.”

The two got to work. As Garrus mostly instructed Mordin, his mind kept drifting to thoughts of Shepard. How good it would be to see her again. He suspected he wouldn't be able to bring himself to tell her about his partial blindness. If he and Mordin could get the visor working as they wanted, his commander might never be able to tell he could only see on one side.

The work was painstaking, and slow. Mordin and Chakwas insisted that Garrus take as many breaks as he needed, with frequent doses of pain killers to keep his head clear. By that evening they had the visor finished. And he slid it in place, where it had always rested. It felt as though he had gotten a part of himself back. No longer just a complex targeting system, however, new images, enhanced and clear, suddenly gave him a wider range of vision. It was still limited on his right side, but certainly better than before. He'd just never be able to take it off unless he wanted to stagger around like a drunken idiot, he realized. I'm going to have to wear this thing when I bathe, heck, when I have sex, Garrus thought wryly. Still, better than the alternative. “Thank you Mordin,” he said, standing up and feeling much steadier.

“No trouble,” the salarian waved a hand vaguely in his direction and wandered off to stare into a nearby microscope.

Chakwas shrugged when Garrus shot her a questioning look. “He's a strange one. Still, he seems nice enough. Wait, where are you going?”

“To see someone,” Garrus said, feeling confident as he headed for the door. His head still throbbed, and even talking felt like it was tearing his flesh with each motion, but pain killers were helping and he knew that seeing her again would make him forget everything else.

“Alright, but take it easy,” commanded Chakwas, “and I want you back here as soon as your done saying hello to the crew. You're far from recovered.”

“Right,” he called back. This Normandy was a bit different from how he remembered her. Still, it wasn't hard to find the elevator, which still moved at a depressingly slow pace, especially for someone as eager to see another person as he was.

He was told by someone who claimed to be Shepard's personal assistant, that the commander was in the war-room with the human from before. Jacob, she called him. Garrus found his way there and as the door slid open he heard Jacob exclaim, “Tough son of a bitch. Didn't think he'd be up yet.”

Garrus normally would have taken a moment to revel in the praise for his fortitude, but his eyes, or rather his eye, was locked on Shepard. She turned when he entered and smiled in a way he hadn't seen her smile at him before. A look of pure relief and...something else he couldn't place. The smile erased any pain he might have been feeling with the sincerest joy that he was there, and able to see it.


End file.
